“Why am I HERE?
Notebook scribbles found in my Capes notes
Life is a miracle…
Lazy?
… I am the problem.
Stop blaming. Reacting.
Stop being a victim.
Feel sorry for THEM;
Not for yourself.
No excuses.
No excuses.”
Thank You!
The fact that you are here reading this at all means a lot. The love and support given to me throughout this journey gives me more courage to express myself in writing at all. I’m so grateful for the friends and experiences earned in such a relatively short amount of time. As you will read below, I am still fairly new to trail-running and Ultras but up to now I truly feel I am a better person because of it all and the people I have met thus far. Thank you all.
This article has turned into bit of a saga but I would like to give the whole journey the due respect and keep it centralized in a complete reflection. As a special thank you for reading, I’ve arranged quick links below that you can use to jump to a particular section of the story (with time estimates) that interests you. Consider them bookmarks you can use to come back and finish the whole thing!
Thank you to all volunteers of Capes 100 and trail running events everywhere. It truly takes a village to run these events responsibly and you all knocked it out of the park! I purposely left names out of this reflection as I don’t want to forget anyone but our shared experiences are treasures. Just know that I appreciate you all.
I hope you find value in my pain. 🙂 Here are those bookmarks and timestamps;
- Thank You!
- Running is a Manifestation of Mental Journeys
- Mental Preparation to Even Attempt 100 Miles
- August 1st, Introduction to Mabou
- August 12th: Leaving for Mabou and Pre-Race Jitters
- Saturday 6am – 10pm: Starting Corral and the Easy Bits
- Saturday 10pm – Sunday 4am: Hello Darkness, my Old Friend & Turnaround at 85km
- Sunday 4am – 7am: The Ghost Pacer of 109km and the Black Feather
- Sunday 7am – 5pm: Pain for Breakfast and Deteriorating Mindset
- Sunday 5:30pm: Finish Line?!
- Closure and Aftermath
Running is a Manifestation of Mental Journeys
I still have trouble considering myself a runner. If anything, I would say that I am a mental gladiator, ready and willing to step in the arena of me versus me and fight to the death – relatively speaking, of course. I do relent to the fact that I tend to run a lot which may or may not classify me as a “runner” in some circles. So be it.
With me there is no Cross Country or Track and Field pedigree. No real history of sports, aside from the odd recreational league here and there. I could be athletic… if I wanted to be. The truth is for most of my life I was more inclined to quit when things got tough or just not even try to begin with. I was content with hiding and not making waves.
It took the birth of my daughter in 2013 for me to find my guiding light. My life seemed to sort itself out it a great cacophony of chaos that slapped me awake and left me bewildered… but I was still determined. The death of my father in January 2019 showed me the fate that awaited me if I didn’t go on the offensive. August 2019 and running became my sword to fight the ticking clock. I was ready to push back.
Running became an arena where I could challenge the (mis)perception I had of myself and my place in the world. The playing field was even in terms of anxieties and mental illnesses – it was refreshing to be able to fight back, finally. Capes 100, a 160km Ultramarathon thru Cape Breton Highlands, became my crucible – and for that, I needed to be ready.
“Running” Milestones since August 2019
- First continuous 1-km (August 2019)
- 1st ever run event / 1st ever 5km event (Oct 5th, 2019)
- 1st 10km event (Oct 27th, 2019)
- 1st Half-Marathon / 1st HFX Hares run (March 20, 2021)
- 1st Full Marathon (April 18, 2021) Article here!
- 1st Official Ultra (April 16, 2022)
Mental Preparation to Even Attempt 100 Miles
For the purposes of this reflection I don’t want to touch a whole lot on the physical training – I ran a lot and practiced eating and drinking on the move. The only coaching I ever really got was obtaining a structured training plan for 2020 which I used as a baseline for future custom schedules.
I basically became a prodigal student of the sport and took the best of what resources I could find to implement them into my strategy which remains fluid and adaptable. Below are factors of mental preparation that I implemented on every run and that have served me extremely well on the trails.
Joining a Trail Running Group
The single greatest thing I can pinpoint in training and preparation was to show up, and keeping showing up, to HFX Hares trail running group runs. I was pretty shy and reserved for the first few, but quickly started pushing my boundaries and finding my stride. Literally. Being uncomfortable is part of the process, and the friends and experiences I’ve had since has made it all worthwhile.
Getting out of my head and joining like-minded people was highly rewarding. So what they’ll run faster than me or wait for you to catch up – keep showing up. If they minded, they wouldn’t wait at all! And so what, just keep going.
This trail running group has brought me so far out of my shell that it’s hard to believe I’ve only been part of them for less than 2 years. Truly life-altering experiences and relationships, with immense potential for crazy adventures in the future. Turns out, Capes 100 was on a few of their radars, also!
Get Comfortable Being Last
There was a large part of the mental process for me of becoming comfortable being at the back of the pack and running my own races. Not only in official events, but also recreational group runs. I regularly volunteer as ‘last runner’ (aka ‘Sweeper’) during HFX Hares group trail runs. This simulates the anxious feelings of being left behind, being slow… all those negative narratives I now crave to confront.
A big help also, on multiple levels, was volunteering as course sweeper for Wascally Wabbit in 2022. I got to see the 31km hilly course, by myself, and clean up all the trail tags along the way. I considered it an excellent mental training day as I ran it at a good pace while wearing hundreds of tags!
I became very comfortable being at the back of the pack by choice, and I think that the stronger I get as a runner the more value I can add to the party at the back. That’s where the part is. 😉
Weather
‘Treadmill’ was not in my vocabulary. I just refuse. I tried before. Hard pass. Therefore, I would make it an exercise in gratitude to shovel my driveway after a long run. My training block took me through the dead of Winter, so I ran in ice storms and blizzards more than a couple times.
Of course, I made sure to be highly visible, highly aware (I’ve never run a single km with music) and highly adaptable.
Time is Relative
I would never willingly impact my priorities of family time or obligations, so time of day was essentially whenever I could get out. Weekends were easy, I could arrange something for the longer ones, however getting your runs in during the week with a full-time job and an 8-year-old becomes character building in itself. Rain, snow, sun, whatever – when it was time to run, I ran.
Psychology
As mentioned, I never run with music. The greatest benefits to running is the playing of the internal dialogue and the script that you can see play out. Within that area you can do some good work in re-wiring some thought patterns, or just power through them. I also knew at Capes that no music or streaming was permitted but I’d just honestly rather listen to my breath mingling with nature.
Being forced into your mind is the essence of Ultrarunning, and oddly enough, exactly what I was afraid of for many years. I used to believe I was an “over-thinker” but I just noticed more things than most and wasn’t able to process it all. I had to understand things that don’t interest a lot of other people.
If I focus in and use that energy, I’ve proven multiple times that I can do pretty cool stuff.
Gratitude
I would make it a habit of greeting strangers as if they’re volunteers, and just generally being grateful. I would verbally say ‘thank you’ when ever something caught my attention on the trails. It was all about thinking ahead to the times in Capes were not going to be fun or feel great and I wanted the habits I use to be healthy and sustainable. I practiced mental mantras, coping mechanisms such as focusing on breath, my surroundings, simple phrases, and inspirational speeches before warmups.
Practicing to do most things on the move also served me very well – if you can eat and change jackets on the move, that’s time you’ll save in the long run. I will say that when you eat a good amount, move slowly and relaxed as you digest. The worst runs I’ve had were because of stomach cramps!
“Offer it all to the Universe” became a concept that resonated well with me. Especially when it hurt, I’d offer that experience (not necessarily pain, pain is only a sensation) to the immortal Universe. In my way of thinking, if I were screaming at it of my existence, the least I can do is share with it my mortal experience. Maybe it’ll be grateful for me, too?
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August 1st, Introduction to Mabou
I learned the benefits of scouting out a course during my first few smaller run events. It helps the mental visualization if you know where the start is, what the first leg of the route will look like, any turn around points, and as I like to say, the “vibe” of the trail. For Capes, in Mabou, that meant a 3 hour drive into an area I’ve never been to.
Pilgrimage to the Battlefield
August 1st, 2022 – The day I went to introduce myself to Mabou. I knew a point on the map to get to, and was prepared to mostly hike it if required as I had just recently had a scary ankle roll at a Hares run that I was re-habilitating quite well. I arrived at Mabou with relative ease, but finding a trail head… that was another story.
Trials by Trails
As if to provide the first of its trials to me, the trail wanted me to work to find it. I drove my little Kia Forte up roads it really didn’t have any business going on. Turning around a few times, finding a different route… again and again. It was infuriating and deflating. I was losing my mind and my temper. The messages from my friends showing me where the access was showed the same spot on my map.
I was feeling despair. I drove way too long to give up. ‘I’ll feel better if I just find these trails,’ I thought. I need to move. So, once I found the road blocked by a car, I parked in a little side clearing and asked a local (yes, people live up there) if she minded if I parked there for a few hours. I’m used to those looks now, of well meaning concern, and she warned me of the hills. I assured here I was well-equipped with water and would be alright.
When in Doubt… Keep Moving
I decided to run the 6 or 7k into where I needed to be within the trail. As it turns out, the road you’re supposed to drive up was close, so the movement wasn’t too bad. This road was much nicer grade than all the ones I tried. I moved in on the Trailhead and enjoyed the view. Once I reached the point on the map, I basically just chose a trail and went with it.
I managed to see a small portion of the Capes course during my time out here but I wasn’t willing to run much more than 20k, but I stopped and listened to the silence. Something told me it was going to rain for Capes, “be ready for rain,” it said. “Don’t forget the rain – the storms you yelled into… they’re coming for you.”
Trail Spirits and their Secrets
Bring it on. I had 2 weeks to prepare mentally for what this effort looks like in the rain. I got a decent taped-seam rain jacket and Zip-Loc bags for everything. Hell, I ran in full-on blizzards, rainstorms, I meditated on the feeling of moving thru mud, water-proofing my pack and my drop bag… I’d be ready.
Looking back now, this Introduction to Mabou was a great confidence booster for me. It allowed my mind a place to envision the conditions and I most definitely connected with the spirit of the trails. It did rain during Capes. At times, it rained A LOT. The storms came for me.
They tried to get me.
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August 12th: Leaving for Mabou and Pre-Race Jitters
Throughout the week I had put some thought into my drop bag that I’d see 6 times and any snacks I would like to have with me. I wanted it all to stay dry also, so I put everything into Freezer Lock bags – with the slider opener for ease of access, naturally.
In hindsight, the Dry-Bag I used is such a pain in the ass to access out on the course. Everything is stacked on top of each other so it got jumbled pretty quickly! My pack had all the mandatory gear and I practiced heavily with full 2.5L bladder on long runs so I was accustomed to the weight. List checked, everything packed…
Tension before Hitting the Road
The day before the race I had a few things to finish up at work and was pretty anxious to get on the road. I had a 3 hour drive to Cape Breton to make the 7pm mandatory meeting, and the family logistics of it all didn’t have me leaving until about 3:30! The well wishes and comments from co-workers only heightened the vibration. I had to get to Mabou.
I was home from work, packed, and spent some last minute quality time with my daughter. My partner had been running late at work, and I was literally vibrating to the point my stomach felt upset. I had to make it to this meeting! I had e-mailed the Race Director and he said I should be fine, and I’d pick the brains of one of my friends that was there as a worst case. I really didn’t want to start my weekend behind the 8-ball at all, if I could help it.
Breathe, dammit!! … AHHHHH!
The Trials by Road!
On the road, of course there was construction, delays, this and that. The more I hurried the slower I seemed to make any progress. I was practically vibrating with energy and to say I was anxious would be an understatement. I really wanted to get to Mabou for this damn meeting and get settled!
Gradually, I eased into the belief that it’ll be OK. It always seems to work out for me, these sorts of things, if I just settle down and enjoy the process. Now, with that in mind, I was still cruising along to the point of not wanting to stop for bathroom breaks. Needless to say, there were some… incidents involving a coffee travel mug that were both disgusting and comical. My laughter at my own expense brought me back down to earth.
It was a smooth ride into Mabou and I made it just in the nick of time to greet a few friends and catch the meeting.
Trust the Process… Fool. It Always Works Out.
I laughed at myself for not trusting the process. I was worried about missing check-in for my room at Duncreigan Country Inn of Mabou. I was worried about missing the meeting, not getting settled… blah blah blah. Lo and behold, not only was I on-time for the meeting, but my room key was on a table and my room unlocked.
Everything was so… easy. Smooth. Comically low-stress.
Of all things, I had forgotten a fork so I ordered takeout from the Red Shoe Pub. As I walked in, the place was so lively that it was almost overwhelming. Live music, wedding parties, every seat was jammed and people were loaded! Talk about contrasting vibes… I grabbed my order after square dancing around people waiting at the bar and made my way to a spot I’d seen earlier. Outside.
Settling In
I ate as I overlooked the ever darkening Mabou Harbour. Settling down and breathing in the setting of the area. I’m not sure if what I do is prayer or meditation but maybe it’s both, but it has served me well. I am here and that is enough.
The club sandwich was delicious, and Lemonade really hit the ol’ Carb button.
430am rise and shine. I slept well enough. I wanted to park on the finish line but I woke early anyways. My mind was ready. A quick shower, gear up, and check-out (aka drop the key back on the table) and I made it exactly where I wanted to park with enough time to stroll the start of the course in a rising sun. Gratitude stroll. Envision. We’re here.
… we’re finally here… and it’s go time. We wanted this.
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Saturday 6am – 10pm: Starting Corral and the Easy Bits
My original goal had been to finish in 32 hours, but in hindsight I was not factoring in how many aid station stops I’d make. With the amount of elevation I wanted a conservative approach right from the start with time taken to care for my feet especially. I started the race with a good pal who was just getting over a foot injury and we settled into a leisurely stroll until we were last.
Once we knew we were in dead last I gave a big ‘whoop’ and we kind of opened up our pace to aggressive hiking mode as we entered the trail. I love sitting with the vibes of the event at first – let people take off and do their thing. The 3 distances offered all started at the same time so the starting line was pretty full and energy was incredibly high. I also knew of several gear checks so I wasn’t in any rush to cram into aid stations.
Birthday Gift
The start date, August 13th, also turns out to be my daughter’s birthday. This had played with me before the event as it’s obviously a special day and I’d rather be there with here. But I also think if her Daddy can pull off a 100 Mile Ultramarathon – that’d make a pretty cool birthday gift for the rest of her lifetime.
That was the purpose of this whole thing to begin with – breaking generational curses and creating a legacy that my daughter can relate to, or that anyone can relate to, really. I just know the Hells I’ve been through and I hope to show, at least, that there is hope.
Catching Vibes at the Back
Gratitude. For being there at all. For the training I’ve done and the culmination of all that time and studying to reach this point in time. It turns out my premonition of the trail spirits saying it’ll rain were absolutely correct – the first km had a pretty steady drizzle so we broke out our rain coats before we got too soaked. I was grateful for the heads up.
I was giddy. I was enjoying the sights, some of which were familiar from my Mabou Introduction just 2 weeks before. It was steady and easy going until my running pal and I separated for a bit. I knew he would catch up as I had kept going relatively the same pace as we were – an aggressive and sustainable hike.
Enjoying the Opportunity
My running partner never did catch up – I seen him after I met with some Hfx Hares acting as a support crew for another runner at the Inverness Beach crew access point. They offered me a chair and some peaches – for which I was especially grateful! The peaches were delicious. It was unfortunate that I lost my running partner but I met up with two other friends on their journey.
Up to now the weather had been great, aside from the earlier shower. It was a beautiful sunny day. It was super easy to get some serious distance in. I met up with 2 other running friends to continue on the journey and experience the hardest portions of the course together – for the first time. The name is literally “Steep Mountain,” and it will eat you alive…
Generally, I enjoyed my time up to now. I took a lot of pictures as it was just too beautiful.
Stick to the Plan… for as Long as Possible…
I had made up a “cheat sheet” before the race with ideal times, Aid Station distances, and more importantly little phrases that were to jog my brain back to the task at hand. I referred to this sheet a lot and it most definitely helped. I was meeting time goals and really, quite enjoyed the first 80km or so. I was on a pretty big high.
It wasn’t until the stretch down into the turn around point that the darkness finally came for me. I referred to the phrases and the names of special people (and not the time goals) more and more often…
Saturday 10pm – Sunday 4am: Hello Darkness, my Old Friend & Turnaround at 85km
“I just wish people would realize that anything’s possible if you try; dreams are made possible if you try.”
Terry Fox
Heading back down into Mabou Harbour I was with a small group of fellow runners. MY run buddies ran on ahead and I made space for myself from some others as I slogged along, getting stuck in my head more and more. Once I got to the turnaround 85km point I met up with the HFX Hares support crew and my wife. It lifted my spirits a bit to be able to crack jokes with smiling faces rather than the trail talk, or self-talk as it were.
Change of Plans… Sorta
My original plan was to not have a crew or pacer, as I didn’t want the pressure of people waiting on me. When someone unknown to me offered to be my pacer (a buddy runner I could pickup at km 109 until the end) I graciously accepted and declined other offers. I was pretty stoked to not have to run thru the night by myself and share the adventure with fresh eyes! More on that to come…
One of our run partners to drop at this point due to nutrition concerns. 85k on this course was an absolute monster effort. Given a set of extraordinary circumstances he endured just to get to the Start, he should be proud. Ultrarunning is absolutely incredible for the people you meet and stories you hear, all such a huge inspiration for me to get to know these warriors.
A few pieces of peach, a quick foot air out and slop up, and the Race Director was prompting me to get moving with the other runner setting off – another friendly runner. Fist bumps, all around! Let’s go! Exchanging excited affirmations about getting this done with my new running partner, we slowly made our way back into the darkness for our 2nd loop. It was the witching hour and I started to be lulled into the darkness once again…
Sing, man… sing in defiance of the dying light. The only song that came to my mind all day or night was the one below.
Starting the 2nd Loop, Midnight
The other runner and I ended up leap frogging a few times and exchanged griping sessions, a few climbs here and there. I was strong on climbs but as far as any speed, I wasn’t feeling it at all. The hurt was becoming real and the darkness was absolute.
As if to add to the moment, my primary headlamp battery gave a low indication. 3 flashes. I must have set it to a high burn setting. I placed my backup in and set the beam to low. How fitting since I was at my low point of the whole event at this time. Totally mentally and physically fatigued and quickly becoming frustrated at my slow progress.
‘Just get to the pacer pickup,‘ I thought. ‘She’s a strong runner from what I hear. She’ll help.‘
Sunday 4am – 7am: The Ghost Pacer of 109km and the Black Feather
A sigh of relief as I stepped into the clearing where the Pacers were supposed to be. It’s been at least 4 hours since I had someone volunteer to meet me here and I was at a pretty low point mentally. I was banking on this to hopefully lift me out of the funk I was in and carry me thru to the finish!
Greeting me at the top of a small incline was the purest of silence. Darkness. Empty cars. Nobody was there!
Alone in the Dark… Except for the Bears… and Coyotes… and Darkness…
“Nobody is coming to save you.”
David Goggins
The big milestone of picking a pacer up that carried me thru the last few hours was nothing but a mirage. I cursed and looked at the large windmill droning its lonely song as it angled to the wind. I could legitimately feel my soul being tugged from my body as I slowly walked on – dejected. Angle to the wind… sail on…
I should have seen this coming. It’s just too perfect. The Universe was playing tricks on me to test my resolve. I tried very hard to not take it personally – being left behind by the other runner, of having someone volunteer to meet me here and just not show up… it took me a long time to find the resolve to boil it all down to yet another test. An obstacle. THE obstacle.
I do not stop for obstacles.
Lower than Low
My mind state plummeted. My belief remained. But I suddenly felt so alone (I was), conspired against on multiple levels, and with 50km more left to go, some of which is on trail that has an extraordinary amount of bear poop on it… oh yeah, and I’d be doing that part in the pitch dark. Alone. During an already low point. I wish I could illustrate this feeling but ultimately I remember repeating;
“… I wanted this. I know someone is watching me. I asked for this… this is what I’m here for…” Trudge on. This is why I’m here. 100%. If I have to do this alone then so be it.
I noticed a toad squashed on the trail. Another victim to ambition. Poor bastard.
I kept moving. At this point I had read a few supportive texts from my brother and a HFX Hare friend that had run the 48km earlier. I had also seen a crow feather on the trail as I was in my compounded bonk. The crow is a very powerful symbol for me and my running and I used that as a very timely reminder to maintain perspective. Keep believing. Above all else – right now – keep moving. Howl at the moon, sing your songs, just keep going.
Demons of the Dark
I sang, I mused, I talked to myself. I verbalized my thoughts, anything at all to make noise and hopefully be unappealing to anything that might see me before I see it. The shadows of my headlamp played massive tricks on me. More than once I nearly jumped out of my skin… hearing things, seeing things… tree stumps became foxes or other animals, boulders became bears. The shadows were all bears running into the woods, or were they running out of the woods…?
The silence was deafening. I decided to make a video of it.
Fuck, man. Just keep moving. What ever thought, negative or otherwise, that crept into my head was over-ruled by that one singular goal. Move. Go. Slowly if you must, just go. Be afraid, just keep going. Be tired, pissed off, all of it… just do not stop…
The Sun Rises on a New Day
I would love to say that the sunrise rejuvenated me but it most certainly did not. It did allow my mind some rest as I was on pretty high alert throughout the night so that once the sun was in the sky enough, I became so fatigued that I was literally falling asleep as I walked. My first trail nap was in order. I decided to stop and sit on a rock and lean my head against my poles for a cat nap. If I laid down I would probably not wake up for a while…
Trail Nap on a Rock
As soon as I sat, the world kept moving. Moving under a headlamp all night made for some interesting visual effects once I stopped. I closed my eyes and listened to the river behind me. I recall a phased image of my headlamp light, slowly going from distorted to aligned. My eyes needed a break, so I slowed my breathing and rested for a few minutes. My brain slowed…
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Sunday 7am – 5pm: Pain for Breakfast and Deteriorating Mindset
Once I snapped awake, no more than 5 minutes later, I felt mentally refreshed and physically sore. Had my leg hurt like that all night? Dang. Keep moving. The rain came in and out so I was juggling jackets and jogging when I could. I was so focused on just getting to the next Aid Station to change out my shoes – I think the Gortex pair I chose for overnight were making my right leg hurt. That was new – usually my left leg was the problem!!
As soon as I changed shoes and set out on the literally hardest segment on course, “Steep Mountain,” for the 2nd and final time – it begins to pour. I decided to not wear my rain jacket as I knew the climbs I had ahead and didn’t want to overheat. The rain would probably be over soon anyway like it has been and the local at the aid station said the rain would “come and go…” Encouraging.
I distinctly remember a very unpleasant feeling in my leg at this time, too, that didn’t exactly get better. Time sort of ceased being a thing for a little while. I just kept on keeping on despite increasing agony.
The Rain Rinsed my Sweat and My Tears
Not only did the rain come, it stayed and got pretty bad!! I was drenched, moving even slower because of muddy trails and technical terrain. My legs hurt so bad that I was going down some of the worst descents backwards just to save the sensation. Time was most definitely ticking at this point, with about 30km left to finish.
I spoke to my legs at some points, pleaded, crying in exasperation that we were so close to the finish and my legs were rebelling. “Keep. F***ing. Moving. You’re allowed to hurt ANY other day, but not today. Not yet. We’re not done yet.” They would shake with exhaustion/pain if I stayed still too long.
Shoutout Kobe Bryant. Mamba Mentality. Job’s not finished.
The Fog of War and Hurt So Good
The cold shivers started to set in so I ended up putting my jacket on anyway. I don’t even remember finishing that segment or starting the last stretch because I was in a such a fog. I just remember snapping out of it and looking at my watch… 2 hours left, my pace was max 9 mins per km, and I was in real danger of missing cutoff. We have to move.
Something bit my leg and the whole damn leg was burning. Was that a friggin’ dragon? Am I poisoned?! Why does it burn!? A deer fly had bit me through my calf high running socks. I was not prepared for that stinging pain on top of everything else! Why did it feel like fire?!
I shuffled along as best I could feeling confident I would make it if I just kept moving. Stuff like this always works out; just keep believing. The pain had a taste at this point, I am pretty sure. Metallic. All of my techniques and mental strategies long played out, my body was just failing. I had to make it. There was no other option I could see playing out. I’ve come too far.
It All Looked the Same!
There were two points where I became so unsure of where I was… the trail markers were spaced out just enough so that I questioned whether I even seen one. There was so much rain that I didn’t even recognize the trail anymore. Gosh… maybe that’s the value of having a pacer?
There was a mixture of exasperation and panic as I ended up back tracking at least two major times to discover a pair of runners traveling together that were sure in their direction.
I was losing my marbles here. At one point I had my pack on the ground about to call the Race Director to tell him I was lost. My phone was at 3% and… no service… fuck. Keep moving dude. We came way too far to freak the f*** out and crumple in the woods. Trudge on, dammit!
It was the right way after all. I have no idea how much time or energy I wasted in panicking over being lost but it was considerable in the grand scheme of things. After that we came to a dirt road that was easy to navigate, and leads to the final stretch at a paved road.
I was actually going to make it?! It hurt so bad and it’s going to be super close to the 36 hour cut-off, but I can make it. Just don’t stop.
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Sunday 5:30pm: Finish Line?!
Jogging and dazed, I heard a few CAW CAWs before I seen a car full of friends pass by. I couldn’t muster a smile at this point through the pain pangs but it meant the world to me that they were out checking if I’d make cutoff… making sure that I was still alive. They shouted more encouragement at me and drove back to the finish. It seemed like they drove on forever… out of sight…
Once I got to the pavement road, ~1km remaining and about 15 minutes, my legs were twitching so bad I was genuinely concerned if I could make the last stretch. A volunteer and the Race Director found me, and said even if I’m over the cutoff of 36 hours, that I’d still be considered a finisher and receive a finisher’s buckle.
Jodi, the Race Director, said “I didn’t want you killing yourself to get to the finish, you’ve earned your buckle!”
“TOO LATE FOR THAT!” I half laughed through the tears. Damn it hurt. He laughed. I was almost done.
Strong(ish) Finish
I was gracious of the gesture… but I had to make it. It was in my head that I had to make it. I’m not dead yet… I have to try. I came over the hill to loud CAW CAWs and I kept moving, slowly, agonizingly slow. I didn’t even check my watch as I just believed it all worked out. I should have known it would play out like this. The irony was beautiful.
I was crying in pain and the beautiful irony of it all. This crucible was so perfect that I wouldn’t have been able to write it out any better if I tried. It was truly perfect. I stopped a few times as the pain in my legs was just becoming too much to bear and I had time. Not much, but I could see the finish. My friends. I could not believe it was almost over.
The feeling was surreal. The physical pain, raw emotion, and spiritual vibe of the scene was inspiring – I was truly at or beyond my limit in every way. I saw friends from Hfx Hares that waited for me and the Nova Scotia Trail Running team out to cheer me in and record my finish. The images are so powerful I wish I could do them justice, but I will cherish those images and memories forever.
I was also pretty startled by an air horn that you can hear in the finisher video below!
No Hare Left Behind
The best feeling was crossing the finish and almost immediately being surrounded by friends offering kind words and hugs. It reminded me I was human. I felt so lucky to be able to share this absolute crucible of epic proportions with so many great people. As much as I hurt and was happy to be done I still managed a smile or two out of pure gratitude for the moment, the experience and especially the company.
I can’t believe I was sitting at the finish line of the Capes 100. For all the trials and tribulations, I had persevered and made more friends along the way. The event had 48 registrants for the 100 Mile distance and I was the last of 23 finishers. I’m still in amazement of what I was able to do out there. When push came to shove, I adapted and pushed back. Success.
The task was done.
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Closure and Aftermath
As I wrote this reflection, there were multiple times I smiled, laughed, shook my head, teared up… I literally could not have wrote it any better than the way it played out. The training and preparation really paid off in the heat of it all. I am so fortunate to have gained the experience of self-realization that the weeks of training and Capes 100 came to represent.
As I write this almost 2 weeks later, my left calf is still messed up. I definitely strained it pretty severely, maybe even pulled it. I’m amazed I finished in this condition. My feet were fantastic and everything else held up, so I consider that a victory! For now I will heal up and take a bit of a break from thinking of running or anything of the sort for a few weeks.
Finishing the 100 Mile with 5 minutes to go before cutoff is just the story of my life. I never set out to be the fastest, strongest, or best… but I swore to give my best effort and never stop believing. I’m so humbled to know that finishing 100 Miles is elusive to many, impossible to more… but I was able to systematically work towards achieving a goal that scared the absolute shit out of me.
This is the beginning of the real exploration. I’ve already made a list of things I can improve upon. I intend on broadening my Ultramarathon journey in the future. But for now, to put the final closing on what has been the biggest test of all and one willingly pursued, I want to end with a mantra that has served me so well since 2015 when I was at rock bottom.
“HONEST EFFORT IN EVERYTHING ENDEAVOURED”
Nicholas richards
HAPPY TRAILS UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN,
CAW CAW!
